Training Wheels
by perpetually-prototyping
Summary: "Sometimes memories just need a little help getting out." Ventus, Terra, Aqua. Quick fic done for the prompt "Ven and patience."
"Good things come to those who wait."

Aqua had cited this with a smile and a wink, ruffling Ven's hair affectionately. He frowned then, almost pouting as he remembered how he'd _already_ done plenty of waiting. He had sparred with his friends for as long as he could remember – most of his life, presumably – first weaponless to get the motions down, and then with the blunt toy swords, and most recently with the wooden Keyblade that Terra had gifted him with. Ven wasn't ungrateful, especially with regards to that last part, but the more he trained alongside Terra and Aqua and their Keyblades, the more wistful his sidelong glances became and the harder he wished for his own to finally appear.

Ven didn't envy them. He never had and never could hate them for their own successes – that was just dumb, and mean besides – so after a while he started to wonder if _he_ was the problem. He had the potential, they told him, and the Master was convinced his Keyblade would come to him when he was ready (whenever _that_ was), but after day-in and day-out of failing to summon it, self-doubt was starting to creep in.

"What if I'm never ready?" Ven had asked one day. He'd been thinking out loud, mostly talking to himself, but Terra and Aqua both stopped in the midst of their exercises and looked at him. They exchanged brief glances, concerned, but then Aqua covered it with a smile and stepped forward.

"You know, I used to worry, too," she'd told him as she knelt down on one knee, Rainfell balanced across her thigh. "Back before I had mine. But just remember, Ven: your Keyblade comes from here." She placed two fingers against his chest, just over his heart. "The rest will come to you naturally someday."

"That's right," Terra had chimed in, and drew even with Aqua to offer the same encouraging smile. "You already have it. Now you just have to prove it to yourself that you're ready to handle it."

"But… that's just it. How do I do that?"

"Well… I think that's different for every wielder," said Aqua. Catching Ven's disappointed expression, she had added, "But that doesn't mean we can't help. You know, Ven – all this training we do? It's not just about making our bodies stronger."

Ven had blinked. "It's not?"

"Hm-mm." Aqua shook her head. "There's another reason, too. Don't you think we've gotten better at fighting together?"

"Well, yeah…"

"We're a lot better than we were a year ago. And we're _much_ better than we were before that. You know why?"

Screwing up his face thoughtfully, Ven had considered that for a long moment. "It's… probably because we're friends. The Master says trust is the key to teamwork, so… since I trust you guys, doesn't that make us a good team?"

Aqua had beamed. "That's right. Trust and having friends – those things come from the heart. So as long as the three of us are together, strengthening our bonds, we'll always be getting stronger."

"And with a strong heart, you can do anything," Terra added, "including wield a Keyblade."

A moment prior, Ven's expression had been wracked with doubt and uncertainty; right then, it slowly broke into a smile, and then a laugh, and then a nod. He had been entirely honest when saying that he trusted them – if he had to wait a little longer, that was fine. As long as he had the two of them, he felt like he could get through anything – even the waiting game.

Three months after that conversation found proof in those words. The more Ven thought about it, the more he realized just how well he knew his two friends in battle – well, mock-battle – and that was especially useful when he sparred against Terra. Ven had never beaten either of them, but to be fair the three of them never really "beat" each other, preferring to just call it a draw when one of them became worn down enough. All the same, his matches against Terra were always harder, always took more out of him and pushed him a little further, and today was no exception.

Once, Ven's swings had always been too wide, too hasty; these days, Terra had to actually make an effort to parry and even dodge. He and Aqua always switched to wooden swords when going against Ven, but each _clack_ of their weapons meeting still sent an aftershock down to his bones, the worn handle continuing to toughen the once soft skin of his palms. Regardless, he was used to getting rough by now and it didn't slow him down like it used to.

Each time Terra forced him back, Ven found an opening – or fought for one – and slipped around behind him to the middle of the plaza again. Whenever Terra bore down on him with his strength to his advantage, using the moves and timing that Ven had almost memorized by now, Ven dodged and countered, each time coming a little closer to actually landing a hit.

 _Let your body move you._

It was his mantra now, in a way. He repeated it to himself, again and again, his inner voice stressing it every time he missed or stumbled or miscalculated.

 _Let your body move you._

He evaded an upward swing that would have sent him sprawling, moved in fast, and swung low – but Terra was ahead of him, like always, and caught the blow with the lower end of his blade. With a flick of his wrist and a shove, he caught Ven's sword and knocked it up and away, wresting it out of the boy's grip entirely. Once, that would have been the end of it.

Today, Ven wasted no time in leaping backwards, his eyes trained on Terra but his peripheral following and marking the trajectory of that wooden Keyblade—

—and a second later he snatched it from the air, righted his grip, and dashed forward again. Terra looked surprised, even smiled his approval, but Ven ignored the distraction and met him in another rough clash, his grin almost savagely proud.

"So you're ready to step it up now, huh?" Still holding his own sword one-handed, Terra shifted his shoulders slightly, clearly tensing for a follow-up. "All right, then—" He suddenly pushed forward, hard, and that alone nearly knocked Ven off his feet. He quickly backed up to compensate, barely knocking aside another swing.

"Come on, Ven! You can do it!"

He didn't risk sparing a glance at Aqua, but he took the encouragement to heart. He could do this. Even if Terra had been going easier on him than he thought…

 _Let your body move you._

Truth be told, Ven still wasn't entirely sure what that meant. Even so, the more he said it, even silently, the closer he felt to understanding those words.

 _Don't overthink it. Take what you've learned and don't just do it –_ be _it._

When next Terra struck, Ven didn't leap back like usual. Waiting until Terra was too far into the swing to pull out, Ven instead jerked sharply to the left without giving any ground and immediately countered, bringing his wooden Keyblade down to try and lock Terra where he was and force him into submission—

—except that Terra moved _again_ , still faster, still a step ahead, and this time used _both_ hands to pull his weapon up. For the second time in less than a minute, Ven was disarmed and knocked backwards, his balance teetering dangerously as he scrambled to stay upright. His adrenaline rush sped up and in an instant he assessed the situation – even if he catches himself, his wooden Keyblade is too far out of reach, Terra will get to it first and this will be over but he's come _so close_ – and even though he was weaponless, Ven shifted his weight and only just caught himself on his heels to stop his fall, having to twist hard to the side and redirect his momentum to manage it.

 _Let your body move you._

That should have been the end of it – it was over. But without even thinking, even though his hands were empty, Ven kept moving as though the fight were a real one, leaping into a quick roll that put him on Terra's immediate right. Thoughts no longer told him what to do – reflex did, maybe, or something else entirely, because even the encouraging chant in his head had stopped and he was on his feet again while his fingers closed around warm steel that was somehow familiar and there was nothing directing his movements except an innate knowledge of what needed to be done—

Terra, for once, was the one to react a beat too slowly. He jerked back, brought up his wooden sword in a defensive move, but Ven's weapon came up to meet it, hit it—

—and cut it in half. The upper portion of the blade went flying, leaving the two of them staring dumbly at the stump of wood still clutched in Terra's fist.

"Uh…" Ven started, unsure whether to laugh or apologize. He glanced at his own weapon to assess the damage, only to jump slightly in surprise and nearly drop it. He hadn't recovered the wooden Keyblade. The sword in his hand looked nothing like it, even, dark shades and a curved design, heavy in a way that wood wasn't. More than that, it seemed to almost hum with something like life beneath his fingers. This was no ordinary object, he could immediately feel.

This was his.

It _was_ him.

"Ven!" Aqua ran over to join them, her eyes bright. "Ven, you did it!"

Terra clapped him on the back with a proud smile. "See? We knew you could do it. Good job."

After a moment Ven pulled his eyes from his Keyblade, their words catching up to him. After another, he remembered how to smile.


End file.
